Social Uprisings and Beautiful Beaches: A Parody of Catching Fire
by The Hash Slinging Slasher
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is back in the arena, squaring off against an all-star line up of tributes, as well as a Capitol that seemingly no longer cares. Back by "popular demand", this all-around parody is a fascinating window into the political causes of revolution, as well as Haymitch's struggles with substance abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Katniss slid her bow back into its hollow log and continued silently through the brush to the fence. After listening for the electric charge that was never there, she slid under with her game. The sky was it's usual dreary District 12 grey, with a few weak clouds lingering on the horizon. The Hob, however, was alive as usual, with off-shift miners mingling with lax Peacekeepers.

Katniss approached a cramped looking booth and requested some of the shadily obtained merchandise.

"Keep the change," she said. The shopkeeper nodded to her in recognition of her charity.

Darius, a young Peacekeeper and Hob frequenter, slid over next to her. "Now what's a famous and respected individual like yourself doing here?"

"I dunno," Katniss said aloofly, "Keepin it real I guess."

He laughed and gave her playful prod. "Don't let it go to your head, kid."

She laughed in return. "Oh, _something _went to my head alright."

"Oh really?" he said, smiling.

"Yeah, PTSD flashbacks," her smile outlasted his as she slung her string of prey and purchases over her shoulder and exited the market.

She made her way to Gale's house, joining the general retreat home with darkened miners. Seam children would stop and watch as she walked past, lifting their dark eyes in admiration and whispering to each other behind their hands.

"It shall be one of them," Katniss said to herself, "It shall be one of them I mentor to a glorious victory in the next Games."

Letting herself through the gate, she knocked at the back door, and was answered by Gale. He had been shaped by the mines. Deep lines under his eyes from late hours and permanently blackened fingers were just the beginning.

"So what's it like working for a living, wage slave?" asked Katniss as she handed over her haul. He took it silently.

Katniss examined her nails ."You know, if you wanted, I could give you some money."

Gale looked over some rabbits, weighing them in his hands.

"Like, a _ton _of money. This coat," she flipped up the collar of her all fur cloak, "cost about five thousand dollars. Money that could have gone to your malnourished siblings."

Scowling, Gale opened his mouth.

She raised a ringed hand. "But I totally get it if you don't want handouts. You're not one to take welfare. I understand."

As he closed the door, Katniss brushed some coal off of her shoulder and snapped on a pair of diamond-studded shutter shades. She closed the gate, her gold Mockingjay chain bobbing at her chest. The streets gradually become cleaner and more even as she approached the Victor's Village. Peeta's house was as bright as hers, while Haymitch's was predictably dead. His door was unlocked. Letting herself in, the smell of alcohol and depression overwhelmed her, causing her eyes to water.

"Haymitch?" called Katniss, stepping over shards of glass.

She discovered her mentor unconscious, as he was the majority of the time, on his couch. After her voice failed to penetrate his booze coma, she filled a glass with water in his disgusting kitchen and tossed it in his face. Katniss fell back as he sputtered violently to life and slashed at the air in front of him with a knife.

"What was that?!" he asked with understandable frustration.

"It's your favorite mentee reminding you to be sober because tomorrow we leave for the tour," she said with no attempt at cheeriness, prodding a bottle on the floor with her foot.

He groaned and planted his knife neatly into the table. "My life would be easier if you two had just died in the arena like all the other kids."

"But," she pulled down her shutter shades so as to better raise her eyebrows at him, "Me and Peeta can take over mentoring from here on out, ultimately increasing the amount of time you can spend being drunk. You could even move onto heavier drugs if you wanted to now."

Haymitch grumbled something and wiped his face off with a piece cloth that really could have been anything at some point.

"Yeah. And I've been making some big changes around here. I replaced P.E. and recess with ranged weapons class, and they serve creatine in the cafeteria now. I doubt we'll see any improvement in these upcoming games, but the next generation of kids is going to dominate."

"Is that so?" Haymitch said with a pitying smirk.

"It is so. I call it the K.A.T.N.I.S.S. system. _K_eep to the woods, _a_ttack from a distance, _t_rust your instincts, _n_ever form love triangles, _i_nspire rebellion, _s_tay away from Careers, and _s_top making adorable child allies."

Taking a flask out of his pocket, Haymitch gave her a thumbs up. "Good luck with that."

"Oh, we're not doing luck anymore," Katniss said, swinging the door back open, "Its going to be pure skill from here on out."

Crossing the street to her own mansion, Katniss stepped inside and was greeted by her sister.

"Mom said to tell you that there's someone to see you in the office," informed Prim.

Katniss hung up her fur coat in a small closet. Whipping off her glasses, she gave her sister a pat on the head. "Thanks, Rue."

"Uh-"

But whatever protests she had were lost as Katniss breezed by her and into a room full of dark wood furniture, leather, and President Snow.

He gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, take a seat."


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: I'll be uploading every other day or so. If you like this, you should read the one I did of the first book. There's no real continuity, except you won't know who Backpacky is.**

"What are you doing in my house?" Katniss asked the President.

"Um, let's see, I gave you this house," said Snow, starting a list on his fingers, "allow you to live at all, and actually own this entire country, so who's house is it really?"

Katniss took a seat and raised her hands defensively. "Okay, I get it. Why did you do that, by the way?"

"Do what?"

"Let me and Peeta live, in the Games."

The President leaned back in his chair and frowned to himself.

"If _I_ were the leader of a totalitarian government,"she continued, "that used bloody spectacles to entertain the people in the capital and intimidate my enemies,_ I_ would rather show that nobody can escape my control than demonstrate that, apparently, you can use the power of true love to beat the system."

Snow chuckled amiably. "You would certainly make a great leader."

"Better than you, that's for sure. You obviously don't know the first thing about running a surveillance state. Honestly, the concept behind the Games isn't even that effective. Instead of constantly forcing everyone to remember that there were better times before you took over, when kids didn't get murdered, you should use your information monopoly to change how the past is perceived. Kill off those old enough to physically remember, then change records and history so that it appears as though you saved the Districts and have been continually improving them. Haven't you read 1984?"

"If you step out of line," said the President, folding his hands delicately, "I will kill every person you have ever known."

"Where is this coming from? What did I do?" Katniss asked, incredulous.

"Certainly you are aware of the position you are in."

"Well, yeah, but," Katniss leaned forward in her chair, "if some revolution is really in the balance over a celebrity, isn't it pretty much just gonna happen anyway?"

President Snow sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Is this a bipolar population or what?"

"I totally hear you. It's ridiculous."

The two continued like this for several minutes; Katniss remarking on the general poor decision making of the oppressive administration, and the President reminding her that she had to convince everyone she was in love with Peeta. The tense conversation was prolonged when her mother brought in a tray of tea and biscuits, and they both felt obliged to continue talking so they could make an appreciative dent in the plate. She went to sleep that night unsettled.

Awaking to Effie in her living room directing cameras and her prep team in her bathroom was something she had been dreading for awhile. After being beautified and dressed in Cinna's latest creations, she was led out the door, where the Victor's Village had been quietly coated in snow.

Spotting each other from across the street, Peeta and Katniss ran towards each other and embraced.

Peeta smiled. "Katniss, I-"

"I love you so much! I'm not emotionally disturbed!" she proclaimed in an uncomfortably loud voice, pulling him to the ground. Laughing, she rolled over onto her back and pointed into the camera with a dramatic wink. "And remember kids, rebellion isn't cool."

Haymitch, who had been observing from behind the cameras, buried his face in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

On the train, President Snow's threat, accompanied with the usual traumatic Games related nightmares kept Katniss from achieving a peaceful sleep. Turning and twisting the soft, Capitol-quality sheets, she eventually swung her legs over the side and stood to her feet. Stepping out into the hall, she drifted to Haymitch's door without a clear idea of what she would do when she was there. Her mentor appeared almost before she had knocked.

"Why are you awake?" she asked, somewhat startled.

"I'm usually nocturnal," grumbled Haymitch.

Katniss thought through some of the implications of this. "Then how did you mentor us through the games?"

"I ended up spending a lot of time just watching you sleep and guessing what you'd done during the day."

"Anyway," Katniss said abruptly, "I need to talk to you about something. Outside."

Haymitch sighed, looked behind his shoulder into his room, then came forward and closed the door. "You really don't get the whole 'surveillance' thing, do you?"

"What? I said," Katniss lowered her head and voice, "_outside_."

Shaking his head as he started for the exit, Haymitch explained. "Why not try to naturally lead me outside? Its kind of obvious now."

"I'm, like, super-traumatized at this point, so let's not criticize all my strategic actions, all right?"

Haymitch shrugged. "Fair enough."

_Outside_, the train slept while it received maintenance at the station. Katniss hugged herself against the bracing breeze and frosty air.

"So," she began, "President Snow basically said that if I don't convince everyone that I'm in love with Peeta, everyone I know is going to get murdered."

Haymitch's eyes widened and he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner? 'Everyone you know' includes me!"

"I knew that would motivate you."

Releasing her, he patted various pockets in search of alcohol, located some, and deftly consumed it. After a long pause in which he ran a hand repeatedly through his sweaty hair and took some deep breaths, he addressed her again more calmly.

"You two have been doing well so far. You definitely have the Capitol viewers convinced-but they're the easy ones, and they're not on the verge of rebelling. It's hard to gauge what a District citizen with no prior knowledge of your personality will make of all this."

"But, think, even if we pull it off, I'll have to marry Peeta," Katniss said, "And be with him the rest of my life."

Haymitch raised his hands to the sky. "Oh, woe is you! You'll have to spend the rest of your life with a handsome and talented baker at the cost of not having everyone you know killed!"

"But, Gale-"

He hopped up the steps and back onto the train. "Tragedy of the century!"

Katniss stared out at the dark country landscape as she heard the door shut loudly behind her, thinking about her future life with Peeta the handsome and talented baker. Stars that had been hidden to her of late by the lit roads of the Victor's Village blinked down at the unfamiliar terrain. She eventually returned to her room to evade the cold, and had an uncomfortable night.

Putting on clothes that had been laid out for her, Katniss made her way to breakfast. The beautiful display of foods was less impressive to her now that she was no longer in poverty thanks to her Game winnings.

"What is this?" she poked at what appeared to be a tiny bird with a shiny, silver fork. "Pheasant? That's not a breakfast food."

Effie smiled, dabbing at her plastic face with a dark cloth napkin. "Oh, you would be surprised at what can and can't be qualified as 'breakfast' food."

"And I think _you _would be surprised at just how few people actually consider pheasant a breakfast food," Katniss said, smiling back over a forkful of pancakes.

Effie set her napkin down. "Well-"

Katniss stood up from the table, and her chair clattered behind her. "No, you don't understand!You can't screw around with breakfast like this! There are some foods you eat for breakfast," she pointed to one half of the table, hands pressed together, "and there are some you don't!" she gestured to the other side.

Haymitch covered his face with his hand as she marched out of the train, which was at least still stopped. She marched angrily down the tracks with no particular destination in mind but away. Taking a seat on the rails, she glared at her hands and felt an amount of angst she felt was justified because she had killed several people in her lifetime.

"You're right, you shouldn't eat birds for breakfast," came the voice of a handsome and talented baker.

"Yeah, thanks," Katniss said with a voice loaded with sarcasm in the same way that a fist can be loaded with a roll of quarters. Under her breath, she added, "Idiot."

He took a seat beside her. "Have you been able to get much sleep?"

She shook her head.

"Me neither. And while I can't get rid of the PTSD nightmares you've been having, I did bake you," he pulled a fluffy, warm looking loaf out from behind his back, "this."

Without looking over, Katniss grabbed the bread with one hand, and threw it directly out into a bush. Peeta initially appeared to be shocked, sad, even, but he recovered well, and stood to his feet and offered her a hand up.

"Come on, let's go back. I want to show you something."

She followed, not reluctantly, but indifferently. He took her into his room, where every wall had finished or partially finished paint canvases leaning against it, and easels were set up everywhere in a sort of maze. Katniss instantly recognized the scenes from their games, depicted in harsh, wild strokes.

"What do you think of them?" he asked.

Katniss folded her arms, then brought a fist to her mouth. "I'll go easy on you, since you are very much an amateur, but any depth your concepts had has been lost in the medium. Your lack of artistic realism doesn't lend itself well to the graphic nature of what you are trying to produce, killing your potential effect on the viewer. The rough edges you've given your work with a clearly non-fluid motion have a similar affect on the more physical depictions. In the name of constructive criticism, it is my job to inform you that this is plebeian trash."

"Thanks, Katniss," Peeta said, looking down at the floor and resting his hand on a corner of one of his canvases.

"Anytime."


	4. Chapter 4

"And I know that the two of you have both been practicing your little speeches, so I'm just not even going to ask," Effie assured her wards, before leaving them to Haymitch after a few fretful adjustments of pillows that had probably been fine.

Their mentor rose to his feet as the door closed behind her, and began re-filling his flask from a clear bottle at the bar. Finished, he turned to face the lovers and aimed the drink at Peeta.

"You will be the one talking the most- you've always been the camera friendly one."

Peeta nodded in acceptance of his role.

"Well," Katniss said in a very drawn out way, "That may have been how we operated before, Peeta doing everything and me just killing people, but it's different now. I may or may not have incited some kind of uprising, so I need to show that I'm not trying to be some sort of revolutionary."

"You're not?" said a surprised Peeta.

"I also wasn't totally clear on that," added Haymitch after a swig.

"No, I'm not. Hopefully I'll be able to set things straight here."

Soon, their train was flying through the endless rows of fruit that was District 11, which was its main export apart from tributes that everybody likes but knows will never win. Hands paused at their work as they passed by, and tanned children raised sinewy arms in greeting. Stopping directly at the run-down Justice Center, white-clad Peacekeepers ushered them the entire way to the stage. A grim, clearly involuntary crowd glared back at them. The families of Thresh and Rue were seated at tables near the front.

Peeta stepped up to the microphone and broke the tangible silence in an unwavering voice. "Sorry two kids from your District got killed."

"Aye," said a towering man in the front row, waving him off, "It's good, it isn't your fault."

Peeta nodded, replied, "Alright, cool, thanks," and stepped away for Katniss.

She grasped both sides of the dark, wooden lectern, and looked out with an intense sternness.

"There have been rumors of insubordination," the blood drained out of Katniss's knuckles at the last word. After a pause, she continued. "I remind you now that such an action would be no more than suicide. The consequence is so certain, so inescapable, that it is contained in the act itself."

A murmur was passed around through the crowd.

"Forget not where we have come from," she continued, punching out every word, "The people of Panem must find assurance in the knowledge that a constantly changing vision has been replaced by a fixed pole! The ashes we have risen from were lit by the destructive fire of democracy, and the fire we have re-kindled brought about only by the power of the state!" Katniss brought a passionate fist down upon the podium, and a strand of hair slipped loose of its design and fell across her forehead.

An elderly man, bent with years, raised three fingers to his lips, then outwards to Katniss. The whole rest of the crowd followed suit in quiet strength.

The counter-revolutionary shook her head frantically. "Nope. No District-unity symbolism. Did you not hear that speech?"

A pair of Peacekeepers took the elderly man up onto the stage.

Head shaking quickly turned into approving nods. "Yes. Adherence is the new law! Our strength-"

The citizen's head was blown off of the rest of his body.

Peeta wrestled Katniss away from the stand as she stared down at the bloodied floor, and the passionate light of her eyes dimmed. Peacekeepers now filed in from all angles, and the pair was roughly ushered off stage.

"Come on, she is already very scarred, was that necessary?!" Peeta shouted, shoving off armored arms, "Couldn't that have waited?!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Ladies and gentlemen, your victors, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"

The sound of the crowd, foaming at the mouth, brought the pair back to a time before their first Games as they took their seats across from Csaesar Flickerman. He beamed at them with his candy face, and they waved to the crowd. He parted his daintily blue lips, but was cut over by Katniss.

"Has it ever occurred to you," she said, "That just about everyone you've ever interviewed is dead?"

It seemed for a moment that their host had actually been frozen by this morbid inquiry, but the audience laughed, and in a flash he had chuckled it off as well.

"So how does it feel to be back on tour?" Csaesar asked warmly.

Peeta jumped right back into rhythm. "It was great seeing all the Districts, I really think they each have something unique to offer."

"But none of them are quite as good as the _Capitol_, am I right?" Katniss asked the crowd, who answered with some appreciative applause, "Woo! Capitol city number one!"

"Csaesar, if you don't mind, could I take your place for a moment and ask Katniss a question?"

"Go for it, kid," the host complied good-naturedly.

The crowd was screaming the moment Peeta dropped down on one knee, so Katniss could barely hear him ask if he would marry her. She struggled to make her face display the correct amount of shock and naturally corresponding joy.

"Of course! Why should I even have any reservations about this?"

The lovers embraced, and the roar intensified, but only partially due to this next step in their relationship. President Snow had also taken the stage with them. He graciously greeted the audience, and shook hands with the couple in a congratulatory but reserved way.

"So," Katniss said in as slight a voice as possible, "Am I clear, or what?"

The President shook his head subtlety.

"Are you kidding me?" she hissed in response.

He shook his head again, giving the crowd another perfect smile.

"That doesn't even make sense!" Katniss said through her own clenched smile, "Everyone totally believes me! This revolution is going to happen anyway!"

"I'm an irrational leader who makes poor decisions, you said so yourself. I'm a malevolent dictator. Can't I just kill some people because I feel like it every once and a while?" whispered the President, with a half-shrug.

"Screw you."

"Love you too, Katniss."

After this friendly exchange, accompanied with a whirlwind of congratulations, the couple had to surrender themselves to their fashion teams in preparation for the very classy Capital party they were going to attend. To their mutual surprise they were allowed to wear perfectly normal evening attire. For Peeta this meant a suit and some butleresque white gloves, for Katniss a dark gown.

"I want you kids to be social. Talk to people." instructed Haymitch upon arrival, eyeing every single person in the entire building skeptically at the same time.

"But Haymitch, I don't know how to have normal social interactions anymore," Katniss objected.

"Then just let Peeta do most of it."

With this in mind, they made their way to an endless table of soups and other foods that neither of them even knew how to properly categorize. Every possible style of liquid seemed to be represented in some form or another in shallow bowls.

"I wonder what this is," Katniss asked aloud, looking over a pinkish, frothy concoction.

"That would be a raspberry bisque."

Katniss jumped, turning around. "Jeez man, don't sneak up on people like-"

Peeta cut in with some social aptitude. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Plutarch Heavensbee."

Katniss laughed loudly in his face. "What kind of a name is tha-"

"And I guess you probably know who we are, then," Peeta said, putting an arm around his fiance.

"Of course," he said with a friendly smile, "And, if you hadn't become acquainted with me here, you surely would have down the road; I am the Head Gamemaker this year."

Peeta nailed a look of curious surprise. "Oh, really?"

"Indeed. I'd love to stay and discuss it, but I really must be going." he slipped a golden pocket-watch out and opened it. A mockingjay flashed on the face for a moment before he snapped it shut. He made fleeting eye contact with Katniss.

The official raised one eyebrow.

He received a blank look from Kantniss, who asked, "What?"

Both eyebrows were now raised.

"Is this a Capitol thing?"

Flipping the watch out again, the mockingjay appeared for another moment before vanishing.

"You really like birds...?" she trailed off, hoping in vain for him to correct her.

He turned his large frame and walked away, muttering, "I tried. It's not your fault when she doesn't know, Plutarch."


End file.
